


Whiskey Dick

by coolant



Series: Dirty Harry [3]
Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Cuckolding, Face-Fucking, Harry is into it, Kim is mean, M/M, Smut, The Smoker is along for the ride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23799709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolant/pseuds/coolant
Summary: Harry convinces Kim to go to a gay bar but then proceeds to get too drunk. Kim finds a way to punish him for ruining their night.
Relationships: Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi, Kim Kitsuragi/Smoker on the Balcony
Series: Dirty Harry [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690015
Comments: 5
Kudos: 55





	Whiskey Dick

This isn’t the first time Harry Du Bois and Kim Kitsuragi have tucked themselves away in a booth in a crowded bar. It is, however, the first time all their fellow carousers are men, and all those men are dancing with eachother. Harry sits with his arm slung around Kim’s shoulders, smiling with what looks like contentment.

“It’s pretty nice here, huh?” Harry’s mouth is too close to Kim’s ear. Normally Kim might like to feel Harry’s breath tickling the tender skin where the shell of his ear meets his neck. Maybe even in a crowded bar- Kim doesn’t mind a little indiscretion, especially in a place like this, but he can tell Harry’s not in his right mind. Harry’s leaning in just a bit too heavily, breathing hard. 

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” Kim asks coldly, crossing his legs, chin tilted away. He hasn’t just gotten drunk, he’s gotten  _ too _ drunk, and he’s crossed a very specific line in doing so. 

“Nah!” Harry declares, face flushing. He hopes if he lies, he can manifest it as truth. “I’m fine! Still good.” Harry paws at Kim’s back to pull him closer.

“No.” Kim holds up his hand and presses it firmly against Harry’s jaw. “We talked about this.” Harry whimpers. Kim can smell it on him; the restless heat that drinking stokes in him. But he can also see the way his eyes sag, the way he wobbles every time he moves.

“But I’m not  _ that-“  _ The dramatic arch of Kim’s eyebrow ends Harry’s sentence for him. Kim shakes his head and stands.

“Stay here.” Him says gruffly over the drone of the music. Harry watches him go, slumping his shoulders.

Kim doesn’t tell Harry where he’s going, even though he’s only going to take a leak, because he wants Harry to squirm. He hadn’t wanted to go out to a club in the first place. Kim feels he’s too old for clubs. But Harry had sold, somehow, a night at a notoriously homo-sexual club.

They aren’t  _ dating _ , exactly, so Kim feels his annoyance with Harry’s drunkenness is inappropriate. But the club had been a little fun, even nostalgic, to a phase Kim never even had as a young homo-sexual. He felt no anxiety about being too slender, too bespectacled- he was an elder, here. As was his burlier, more drunk companion.

Perhaps that is why Harry must have been sneaking drinks at the bar. He must have, to be  _ this _ drunk this quickly. Kim  _ had _ wanted to leave the club soon, go back to his place for continued  _ revelry _ . With Harry being now very drunk, though, that idea seems unlikely. 

Kim shoulders open the restroom door, sliding past a pair of paramours canoodling while half on top of a sink. Kim urinates then moves to wash his hands. In the mirror, Kim sees another man exit a stall. He has dark hair and wears a metallic purple shirt unbuttoned to mid-torso.

For the briefest moment, Kim freezes, recognition hitting him.  _ The smoker on the balcony.  _ Kim averts his eyes smoothly and turns off the faucet.

“ _ Gendarme _ ?” The man is visibly delighted to recognize Kim, lip curling. Kim clears his throat.

“Yes, hello, monsieur.” The Smoker leans on the neighboring sink and smiles. Kim shakes his hands dry. 

“Fancy seeing you in a place like this.” The young man rolls his neck, gesturing at  _ this place _ .The bathroom of a dive bar for men who like cock.

“Surprised?” Kim asks, not quite smiling, wiping his hand with a paper towel. The Smoker narrows his eyes and smiles wider. 

“No, not now that I see it.” He places a long-fingered hand on his chest. “I might have noticed before, but I was distracted by your _colorful_ _partner_.” The man says “partner” with emphasis because he knows it could mean two things. Maybe he’s asking.

“Yes, he has that effect on people.” Kim stifles a much warmer smile and settles on a barely perceptible smirk.

“How is he? Still alive, I hope.” Kim assumes The Smoker could tell Harry was a partier, or he is referring to the multiple gunshot wounds he acquired while in Martenaise.

“Yes, he’s alive.” Humming, Kim backs towards the door. A pause. Kim has a thought.

“Actually, monsieur…” Kim turns to the young smoker, palming the door behind him. An uncharacteristically dark smile spreads across his face. “Could I buy you a drink?”

  
  


—

  
  


Harry sits, metaphorically, with his dick in his hand. He is admittedly also thinking about doing it literally. He knows he can’t get hard this drunk- not for long, anyway. But he really wishes he could. He talked Kim into this bar and now it’s full of beautiful people drinking, laughing, dancing. He just wants to feel good, and for Kim to feel good too.

_ You’ve done it now, Harry _ . He thinks.  _ You wanna fuck, and Kim would have fucked you. But you got too drunk, and now neither of those can happen. _

“Officer.” Kim says, striding up to Harry. A familiar purple-clothed man trails behind him. Harry shifts up in his seat. “Pay your tab. We’re leaving.”

Harry opens then closes his mouth. He looks at the man next to Kim, looks at his sharp cheekbones and the smooth skin of his chest.  _ Oh.  _ Harry remembers this man. Remembers how it felt to realize he liked the way this man smelled, how much he enjoyed letting his eyes roam over the pale expanse of his exposed chest.

“He’s coming with us.” Kim says. It’s unclear if this is directed at Harry or The Smoker. The Smoker looks from Kim to Harry wearing a feline smile. Harry swallows. He pays his tab and Kim hails a cab.

  
  


—

“Nice place.” The Smoker says idly. He’s making small talk halfheartedly. He knows he’s not here for conversation. Harry can tell The Smoker knows what he’s here for because of the way he touches his neck and stands with one hip jutting out.

“Thank you.” Kim offers a perfunctory smile- the polite kind reserved for conveying social niceties. Harry never gets those. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Nuh uh.” The Smoker shakes his head and moves towards Kim, draping his elegant arms over his shoulders. Kim receives him, gracefully, sliding his hands along The Smoker’s back, and tugs him in for a kiss.

No flirtation, no banter. Just Kim, kissing The Smoker with enough force to make the younger man bend backwards at the waist to keep from falling over. They part for a moment and The Smoker breaths a laugh, letting a delicate-fingered hand caress Kim’s neck as he pulls away. Briefly, he glances from Kim to Harry, his eyes sharp and glittering. He whispers something in Kim’s ear.

“Let’s go.” Kim responds, gently shoving The Smoker towards his bedroom. Kim looks at Harry. “You, too.”

Harry knows his mouth is hanging open but it hasn’t yet occurred to him to close it. The image of Kim kissing The Smoker is still seared into his vision, like they were a bright light Harry stared at too long. It should make him angry, maybe. Or jealous. But all Harry feels is this churning, firey feeling in his gut that definitely isn’t a furious one.

Harry follows behind Kim dumbly, wobbling as he shucks off his jacket and shoes along the way. Once in the room Harry sees The Smoker leisurely poking around Kim’s effects before taking a seat on the bed, bouncing.

“Sit.” Kim points Harry to a chair near his chest-of-drawers. Harry knows this is where Kim sometimes polishes his boots. Harry obeys, sitting stiffly on the edge of the seat.

Kim saunters back over to The Smoker who looks up at him, licking his lips. Kim leans down and whispers something into his ear. The Smoker smiles and hums then slides his hands around Kim’s waist, kissing his still-clothed stomach. 

Harry watches as The Smoker inches his fingers under Kim’s shirt, sneaking little kisses on his abdomen as it becomes exposed. Kim watches, dark-eyed, and rests a hand on the crown of his head. The Smoker begins to unbuckle Kim’s belt while also nibbling his hip. 

The sound of Kim’s fly being unzipped makes Harry shiver with anticipation, even though he’s not the one doing it. The Smoker, beautiful and skilled, looks up at Kim as he inches Kim’s waistband down, freeing his dick. Kim lets out a long breath and flexes his fingers in The Smoker’s dark hair as he puts Kim’s whole cock in his mouth. Kim isn’t hard yet, but judging by the way he clenches his jaw, he soon will be.

Harry feels a strange emotion watching this young man deftly suck Kim into an erection. Perhaps it is longing, wishing he were the one making those wet sounds, earning those pleased grunts. Or maybe it’s simply admiration, watching The Smoker’s adam’s apple jump as he swallows around Kim, whose stomach muscles flex as he exhales. The Smoker pulls away, licking down Kim’s shaft, showing off how hard he’s gotten.

Hand still firmly gripping The Smokers hair, Kim looks up at Harry. His expression is still smooth, unreadable. When he lets out another sigh and his expression shifts; he closes his eyes and begins to rock his hips. The Smoker lets out a please moan around Kim’s cock. Planting both hands on the sides of the man’s head Kim begins to thrust. 

Harry thinks it should be him gagging around Kim’s cock.

_ Though he’s not even really gagging, is he, Harry?  _ He’s a real pro, just taking Kim to the hilt with the grace of a dancer. The Smoker pulls away for air and Kim’s spit-coated cock bobs free. The Smoker stands up, pulling Kim’s shirt up over his head. He runs those lithe fingers over Kim’s chest and when he reaches his nipples he flicks them. 

Harry’s mouth starts to water as Kim’s hips twitch. Harry knows Kim has sensitive nipples and seeing someone  _ else _ tease them makes him ache all over. He wants to run his tongue over them, feel them harden underneath his fingertips.

Kim grabs The Smoker by the jaw and kisses him again. The Smoker obligingly drapes his arms over Kim’s shoulders. He’s putting on a show, this young man, humming and sliding his hands down Kim’s naked back. Kim backs him into the bed, roughly pushing him down.

“Oh!” The Smoker yelps as Kim straddles him, returning to give him bruising kisses. Kim’s not going easy on him. These will certainly leave bruises. The Smoker moans. 

Harry sits straighter in his chair. He had been worried about falling asleep in the cab over, but he’s wide awake now. Kim begins to unbutton The Smoker’s shirt, teasingly slow.

“You’re very beautiful.” Kim says, softly but loud enough for Harry to hear. He fans his fingers across the younger man’s smooth, pale chest. Harry swears he can see goosebumps on the younger man’s skin.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Kim asks, tilting The Smoker’s head towards Harry. His lips are swollen from kisses, soft, and his cheekbones remain razor sharp. It is a gorgeous contrast. The Smoker purrs and smiles at Harry then bites his lip. Harry can’t decide where to look so he settles on the place where Kim’s hand is pressed to The Smoker’s jaw, following the line where his neck meets his collar bone. 

“Officer?” Kim's voice cuts through the boozed-up haze of Harry’s mind. He jumps in his seat, hands shooting to clasp his knees. Meeting Kim’s dark stare takes all of Harry’s effort. He swallows hard.

“He is, lieutenant. Beautiful.” Harry blurts.  _ Lieutenant? What’s that about? Never used ranks in bed before. _

Kim smiles cruelly and tilts The Smoker’s face back to him. Leaning down, Kim kisses him, then spits into his open mouth. 

“Flip over.” Kim says tersely.The Smoker flips to his stomach with a little  _ oof  _ and wiggles his hips. Kim pulls at The Smoker’s waistband, quickly and skillfully exposing the younger man’s ass to the open air. He gives it an appreciative slap. 

“Look at that.” Kim muses, dragging a hand down The Smoker’s back to cup the reddening skin of his ass. Kim has The Smoker ass-up, face pressed to the mattress, so they can both look at Harry. Kim tugs his own trousers down, meeting Harry’s eyes across the room. Harry looks at Kim, at his mouth, and the hand he has secured around his erection. Harry lets out a little moan.

“You like what you see, officer?” The Smoker mewls at Kim, wiggling his ass. Kim smirks, reaching back to a vial on the table and Harry swears he can hear that familiar wet noise of lube on fingers.

“Yes, I do.” Kim slides a finger in and The Smoker makes a pleased sound. Harry’s knee twitches. He can all but feel Kim’s finger in  _ him.  _ Sliding, insistent, probing.

It doesn't take long for Kim to prepare The Smoker; he quickly murmurs that he’s ready. Kim slides in swiftly, no gently entrance. But that’s alright because he’s practiced, this young man- so  _ good _ at taking Kim’s cock. Kim sets a steady pace and The Smoker’s cock is hard and bouncing joyfully with each of Kim’s thrusts. Harry finds himself looking at The Smoker’s dick. It’s pretty, flushed, and a bit longer than Kim’s. Still, of the two, Harry wishes he was the one being fucked by Kim. Why, he wouldn’t even need to get hard to do  _ that _ .

_ But that’s the point, isn't it? _ Kim grabs the back of The Smoker’s head and tugs and a long whine joins his chorus of moans.  _ You’re supposed to see what you’re missing, Harry boy. Could be you were sandwiched in between them, just three manly bodies writhing together in sweat and other bodily fluids. _

But instead Harry is here, watching longingly, noticing the drool on The Smoker’s lip as Kim drives into him.  _ Kim really is good at it _ , Harry thinks mournfully. You wouldn’t think it based on his slight frame, but he is. All that authority and control in such a small body...

“Pay attention, officer.” Kim’s voice cuts again through the fog of Harry’s drunken thoughts. He doesn’t even sound out of breath. “Are we losing you?” Kim grabs the back of The Smoker’s head, directing his gaze to Harry hunched over in his chair.

Kim leans down to The Smoker's ear. “Tell him how it feels.” Kim says darkly. The younger man keens, throat bending, baring his neck to the room.

“It feels… so good, gendarme. If I had known your partner was so  _ good _ I would have stolen him sooner.” Kim punctuates The Smokers words with an especially hard thrust, the sound of slapping skin.

Harry's mouth is dry. Maybe it’s the liquor? Each time Kim’s hips strike The Smoker’s ass Harry’s knees twitch. He’s never seen Kim like this, clawing, careless. Perhaps because Harry can’t  _ watch  _ Kim fuck him. Or perhaps because The Smoker is bringing out a different side of Kim.

This thought is anathema to Harry. It couldn’t be that Kim has this furious, cruel  _ (and sexy)  _ side that only comes out around twenty-something art students.

_ You idiot.  _ A voice in Harry notes.  _ This fury isn’t for him, it’s *at you.* _

And that would be very sexy, even exciting, if the straining length of Harry’s cock weren’t now pressing up against his disco pants. The discomfort and the fire in his gut make everything look like doubt.

The two pause for a moment, breathing hard, adjusting their bodies. They look so far away to Harry, two lithe, beautiful bodies pressed together, a thousand miles away from Harry and his gut and his semi-soft dick. Kim says something to The Smoker, who titters and nods his head. They reposition, and The Smoker takes his cock in hand, pumping with languid stokes. Kim extends a hand over The Smoker’s back and secures it around his throat.

“Uhhhn!” The Smoker exclaims, stroking himself faster now, his back arching. Suddenly the collar of Harry’s shirt feels very tight. Or maybe, he just wishes it did. 

“Oh, lieutenant, oh, like that!” The Smoker’s voice is so cloying, so fake, but Harry feels a pang of sorrow.  _ I should be the one calling him lieutenant.  _ Kim growls, something Harry knows is not usual because  _ he would remember  _ hearing Kim Kitsuragi growl. 

The Smoker’s strokes are getting more frantic, now. His face is getting red- either from the exertion of being contorted or the pressure from Kim’s grip. Kim admires the man’s pale skin, flushed, mewling for him to fuck him harder. It’s nice to be appreciated by someone so young and beautiful. Nice to watch that someone fall apart under you, too.

Kim looks away again to Harry, who’s posture is rigid and mouth is slightly agape. Kim practically glowers. “Pay attention, officer.”

The Smoker comes in bursts and Kim fucks him through it. He makes lovely noises, spraying his cum all over Kim’s bed. Kim releases The Smoker’s throat, letting him bend over back into the blankets, moaning and shivering.

“Yes, keep going, come  _ in me!” _ The Smoker cries, bracing himself on the bed, bucking back into Kim with wanton abandon. Grabbing onto The Smoker’s hips, Kim hammers the man, chasing his release. He comes with a grunt, burying himself in The Smoker before pulling out and admiring the way his cum leaks out. The Smoker hums, sounding winded but pleased, shifting up the bed to lounge on a pillow. 

Breathing heavily, Kim opens the drawer of his bedside table and retries both a box of Astra’s and a lighter. He offers one to The Smoker, who takes it with a contented smile. He lights The Smoker’s cigarette, then his own. Kim opens the window and exhales. Harry can see the smoke leave his lips and drift out into the night air. Kim turns from the window.

“Harry.” Kim extends two fingers towards him, offering the cigarette. Without hesitation Harry takes it, savoring the taste of nicotine, the smell of chestnuts, and the tiniest fleck of affirmation from Kim.

“Finally sobered up, I see.” A pointed glance at the crotch of Harry’s pants. His cock is folded up and hard, pressing painfully up against his belt. The Smoker chuckles.

“Yeah.” Harry’s voice wavers as he grins hopefully. Kim hums, face unreadable. The pause between Harry’s words and Kim’s hum lasts a moment too long.

“Well,” Kim says, lips flicking up in a cruel, beautiful smile. “You know where the bathroom is, detective.”

Harry breathes smoke, deflating, and hands the cigarette back to Kim’s outstretched fingers. He turns on a heel, shuffling to the bathroom to furiously masturbate. 

At least, he thinks, Kim had called him detective, instead of officer.

**Author's Note:**

> Shouting out my fellow perverts on Discord for letting me bounce ideas off them, and even steal a few! These Dirty Harry fics honestly wouldn’t exist without ya’lls help. ❤️


End file.
